Lunchtime! The three Girls sit around a table in a fancy place and recount the slights and injustices of the morning, none of which could possibly be their fault. "'A jif,'" Gretchen says bitterly. "Who talks like that?" The other two make fun of Edmund's stiff and clipped way of speaking. Hello, dead client? Make fun of that, why don't you. Gretchen shoos away a nervous, hovering waiter and Sarah suggests that they not discuss "the psychological MAKEUP of our clients." Jeannie -- in her beige frosted lipstick and shimmery gold eye shadow -- says that if they talk about work, they can bill the lunch.
Then, oh, snap -- something more important than ripping a girlfriend to shreds? Is it...the Rapture? No, it's Stacy Keach, sitting at the bar and guzzling a martini. My boyfriend says, "Look at that paunch! He used to be considered sexy, you know." I'm all, when? Forty years ago? "No, back in the '80s. Hammer time." Twenty years ago. Hey David E. Kelley, try objectifying male actors once in a while, and hire ones that are hotter than Stacy. That's what we want. Hot guys on TV. Sarah gets all excited to see the paunchy boozehound, and says that he's the guy who drafted the law in question. Should she go up to him? No. No for so many reasons. But she does anyway. She scurries off, and Gretchen turns to Jeannie and disingenuously says that she likes Jeannie's eyeliner. Is it new? Jeannie blinks, surprised, and says no. Look out, Jeannie. You're about to suffer a make-under. Or, you know, be humiliated again, this time by your so-called friends.
Paunchy Boozehound walks out of the restaurant and down the street. Sarah scurries after him. Excuse her? Mr. McDrunkford? Got a sec? She's a huuuge fan. She calls Stacy a "beacon when it comes to coastal zone management" and says it's an "honor" to meet him. Get a shovel. We're hip-high in BS. He's all, "Tell it to somebody who cares." She keeps on pestering him until he asks if she's a "hooker," because he "has no money and has gone off hookers." Well, she's a lawyer -- she sort of screws people for money. Sorry, too easy. And too true. But she says she really cares about what happens to our submerged lands. That, and how much makeup is on her roommate's face. Could she trouble Stacy for an affidavit? Seeing as he's "such a beacon." What a pain in the ass.
Giancarlo warns Gretchen that being the one facing a deposition is much worse than doing the deposing. Or, duh. Gretchen's wearing this tiny little black blazer that looks like a little girl's. Fitted is one thing; tiny is another. Giancarlo tells her that "most attorneys get tripped up by their own arrogance." Gretchen drops her chin and stares hard at him, then says it's her record this will go on. Giancarlo says, "Being sued is a part of doing business. Get over it." He walks off and she scoffs to herself. Get over it. Ha! Who ever does that on a David E. Kelley show! An Asian guy walks up behind her and asks if it's true she has to appear before the bar. She sneers and squints at him and says no, she's being sued. But Edmund/Armin is a "real pit bull!" So she should be okay, says Asian Guy. Just don't answer any questions. One of his past clients never spoke once! "That's a record," he says, twice. Miss Holt comes up and asks Asian Guy to stop by her office in a bit -- he leans in to Gretchen's office and says he thinks she has "designs on [him]." "Praying Mantis," says Gretchen sarcastically. Asian Guy says Miss Holt "is sexy, in that bite-your-head-off kind of way." The fuck? This show blows.
Exterior shot of a beautiful San Francisco building. Now, I have many friends in San Francisco -- in fact, each time my boyfriend and I have gone there, we see Paul Kantor having coffee. Paul Kantor, if you're reading this: stop stalking my boyfriend. Get your own. Anyway, since I've canvassed the area a bit, I have to say that these three lawyer-girls' apartment? Is incredibly beautiful. The wooden floor is particularly amazing. And, though it looks like a set, it's not unbelievable to me that these three chicas would score such a fabulous place. They should have the bucks, lord knows. Jeannie is working on her laptop, as her long-suffering boyfriend Kevin cooks dinner and pours wine, faintly complaining about it all the while. Gretchen Mol comes in and says that Sarah is still trying to get an affidavit out of Lushenstein. And Michael? On another business trip. Sorry, who is Michael, again? Oh, Sarah's boyfriend. Jeannie snidely asks Kevin, "How gay is Michael?" My boyfriend says to the television, "As gay as this show." Then to me, "Don't write that." He doesn't want to look like a homophobe, see. He's such a gaylord sometimes. Jeannie says she thinks Michael is gay (duh), and that "on some unconscious level, Sarah knows it, too." Hence the reason she got all slur-y with Randuh in the office last week. And, "unconscious level," hee. Jeannie -- who's wearing the most hiddy faux sailor shirt -- says that all men "put it out," meaning, "sex." Women do this too, apparently. But the gays? Don't put it out there: "Which is why we love being friends with them - we don't have to put our guards up." First of all, don't speak for me, woman. Your use of the royal "we" is not appreciated. Second of all, there are plenty of gay men who give off sexual vibes. I've been hot for plenty of my gay male friends. And third, I love being friends with gay men for many reasons, and nowhere near the top of the list is not having to keep my "guard up." So uncross your eyes and shut up, Jeannie. "He's gay, he's cheating on Sarah, and that's all [Jeannie's] going to say." Wow. Shout-out?